Francesca Bossert's Blog, page 9

SHIMMER-HUNGRY

Photograph, Olivia Bossert

I am

defective.

Speed-disrupted,

uneasy, inadequate.

Self-convicted of

never-enough,

whiplashed by the whirling energy,

of everything-right-this-minute.

 

I know

My power crouches,

mobilizing,

reorganizing.

 

I wait,

convalescing,

shimmer-hungry.

 

When my shimmer rises,

I shall be unstoppable.

 

ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, is available on Amazon

TINY REMOVER, BIGGER FEELINGS

TINY REMOVER: a haiku

 

This smooth slipperer,

Expert in relocations,

Refuses rain checks.

 

 

We drove down to Spain on Wednesday, where we are incredibly lucky to also have a house. As you might have gathered if you’ve read some of my recent posts, Spain is my happy place. Even if it’s pouring with rain, as it is today – hence the poem about a snail.

 

I’m thrilled to be back here, especially as the night before we left I had a panic attack because I’d been sick all day, and was beginning to think I’d be stuck in Switzerland for months, slowly becoming more and more of a recluse, because when I’m there I hardly ever see anyone. And then I spiralled off into the land of anxious nincompoops, worrying about having to share the driving with my husband when I felt so exhausted if we actually did go, which was silly because he’s often driven down alone when I’ve flown over to Spain early. But my mind gets stuck in doom-and-gloom overdrive when I’m feeling particularly tired and vulnerable.

 

Anyway, I woke up Wednesday thinking “yes I can”, and so off we went, and it was fine (I took extra meds!!) and he drove the entire way, and now here we are and I’m feeling far more chirpy.

 

It strikes me once again how much a place can affect us. So far, I have never been inspired to set a story in Geneva, despite having grown up there. Setting in story is something I’ve always struggled with, because the place I know best is obviously Switzerland, but it seems so…uninspiring! I know Ibiza, the Balearic Island, very well, because we used to spend our summers there years ago, when our children were small. Ibiza is an island that has always felt special to me, even before I ever went there, because someone I knew growing up had a friend whose parents had a house there (and this someone sounded so deliciously naughty, and I longed to be naughtier!). I set my romantic comedy, Just Like a Movie, in Ibiza, because living there was my dream. In fact, in the story, Gemma, the main character, leaves Geneva to begin a new life in Ibiza. Also, she meets a famous popstar on her way there, which enabled me to enjoy a little fantasy about a famous popstar I’ve always had a crush on!

 

But setting a story in Switzerland? Pfff!

 

Believe me, I’ve tried, because I know how attractive Switzerland appears to tourists. And yes, it’s beautiful, with mountains and cows, and villages and geraniums, and lakes and cheese and chocolate. But so far, no fun Swiss storyline has ever popped up in my brain, which is kind of frustrating, really.

 

After my Ibiza romcom, I wrote a book set in Ithaca, the Ionian Greek Island, because we once went on a sailing trip there, and visited an abandoned hotel where Winston Churchill had stayed with his wife, Clementine, during the war. That place literally jumped out at me, along with a fully formed story just begging to be written.  But I put so much pressure on myself at the time that I never managed to get that story right, and the whole palaver turned into such a fiasco that I went to pieces and didn’t write for twenty years, until I got my rights back for Just Like a Movie, republished it, and then fell head over heels for poetry.

 

I have the skeleton of a story set between the south of France and the Costa Brava, which is where our Spanish house is located, but so far, I haven’t dived in and run with it. Whenever I ask myself why, the answer I received is that I’ve concentrated on poetry and publishing my poetry book, and that there are only so many hours in a day. But I tend to believe there’s also smidgeon of fear involved, because the story I have in my head is so big, timeline-wise, that I’m worried I’m not skilled enough to control and execute it the way it deserves. Which is one of the problems I ran into when I wrote my Greek story, Turn Left at the Ocean.

 

Maybe I just put too much pressure on myself. Maybe I’m paranoid! I don’t know.

 

Also, I’m loving writing poetry, and there really aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything. Because I’d like to finish crocheting my bedspread, which has been a work in progress for four years now (it’s huge, and I’m currently working the border, which is also huge, because it needs to be doubled to give it weight!) as well as the beautiful sweater I started last September. And do some painting, and exercise more, and read the mountain (range!) of books I keep adding to, and get back to sewing too, because you should see the ridiculous stash of fabric I have in a cupboard in Switzerland. I went through an intensive sewing phase a few years ago, making all sorts of funky bags which I sold for pretty good money. A catastrophic neck injury during a yoga class put an end to my sewing spree! Yep, yoga can be dangerous, especially if you’re hypermobile.

 

The thing is, I often wonder whether if I’d been raised in England (or America, or any anglophone country) I’d be churning out story after story without ever running into this “setting” issue. Because if I had been fundamentally English, I would have had a proper feel for English ways of life. As it is, my background is international (I went to the International School of Geneva), meaning I’ve never really felt I have real roots. I’ve often visited England and Italy (my mother is English, my father Italian), but I’ve always been a tourist there.

 

I’m Swiss by marriage, and I like Switzerland, but unlike my husband, I’m not profoundly attached to it. I don’t miss Switzerland when I’m away. I might miss my house, my family, and a few of my friends. But I lost many of my friends in Switzerland when I became ill. You fall off the grid because you’re housebound, and people move on with their lives. In Spain, even in times when I’m housebound, I still see people, because our house is on a golf resort, and we’ve made a lot of friends here over the years.

 

Funny how a Spanish snail outside the window can lead to a haiku, which can lead to pondering my issues with setting in fiction, before lightly touching on the feeling of belonging!

 

How about you? How do you choose where you set your stories? Am I weird not wanting to set my stories in Switzerland?!

 

My poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, is available on Amazon

THE POETRY POLICE

 

I sometimes spot the Poetry Police

Standing guard over rules and regulations,

Brandishing lists of names

Like exam results,

And for a moment

My sympathetic nervous system,

(Forever the drama queen),

Gets all unsympathetic with me,

Dunking me in an ice bath surrounded

By tomato pelters eager to share

Their expertise in making the Boo sound.

 

But then I just flick them

My imagination,

Sing a little lalalala,

Before treating myself to a double-dosed

Keyboard frolic

With a generous side-serving of crackers.

 

 My poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, is available on all the Amazons, and comes with its very own, perfectly curated playlist on Spotify. The cover and illustrations were designed by my daughter, Olivia Bossert, a fashion photographer and mixed-media artist.

 

SONG TITLE POETRY: E IS FOR ELECTRIC LIGHT ORCHESTRA

Sweet Talkin’ Woman

Do ya Shine a Little Love?
Strange Magic Don’t Bring Me Down,

When I was a Boy Confusion

All Over the World, Can’t Get it Out of my Head!

 

Calling America,

Here is the News:

Need Her Love.

Whisper in the Night; Don’t Walk Away

Livin’ Thing.

 

Hold on Tight

My new poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN is available on Amazon.

SONG TITLE POETRY: D IS FOR…DURAN DURAN!

Rio, Is there something I should know?

What happens tomorrow?

Save a Prayer;

All she wants is The chauffeur friends of mine,

The Wild Boys,

Notorious Union of the Snake,

Hungry Like the Wolf,

A View To A Kill.

New Moon on Monday,

Invisible Girls on Film.

My poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, is available on Amazon and is getting great reviews

SONG TITLE POETRY: D IS FOR…DURAN DURAN!

Rio, Is there something I should know?

What happens tomorrow?

Save a Prayer;

All she wants is The chauffeur friends of mine,

The Wild Boys,

Notorious Union of the Snake,

Hungry Like the Wolf,

A View To A Kill.

New Moon on Monday,

Invisible Girls on Film.

My poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, is available on Amazon and is getting great reviews

LOCAL BIRDIES: DO BIRDS HAVE ACCENTS?

During my walk out in the woods

I heard something quite weird.

Blackbirds conversed in Schweitzerdeutsch;

I couldn’t believe my ears!

 

“What’s Schweitzerdeutsch?” I hear you ask,

Your eyebrows cocked sky-high,

While your expression convinces me

You’re mega mystified.

 

Schweitzerdeutsch is German Swiss,

It’s Switzerland main speak,

A dialect that’s so guttural

It doesn’t exactly tweet!

 

Nevertheless, these birds I heard

Had Swiss German’s odd lilt,

A sort of up and downy twang,

If you follow my gist.

 

I listened for a while, amused

By their accented tunes,

And wondered whether Swiss French birds

Sound weird to German dudes!

 

And then of course, my thoughts spun out

To other countries too,

Do birds from London sound the same

As birds from Lancashire do?!

My new poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, is available on Amazon 

 

SONG TITLE CHALLENGE: C is for The Cure!

Charlotte Sometimes

Boys don’t Cry.

I’m a cult hero,

A Fragile Thing,

Alone.

 

Maybe Someday,

In Between Days,

Three Imaginary Boys,

The Love Cats

From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea,

High, Homesick,

Out of this World,

Jumping Someone Else’s Train

Forever,

Doing the Unstuck

Disintegration

Pornography

Freakshow

Close to Me,

Catch Prayers for Rain.

 

So What!

Friday I’m in Love,

Let’s Go To Bed,

Sleep When I’m Dead.

 

Wrong Number!

It’s Not You…

 

My brand new poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, is now available on all the Amazons, and comes with its very own, perfectly curated playlist on Spotify. This book is the perfect gift for Mother's Day (or any other day!) as the cover and illustrations were designed by my daughter, Olivia Bossert, a fashion photographer and mixed-media artist.

Just in: a new review for ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN

 

Illicit croissants at dawn are poems written for women who not only dream of the late night snack but actually endorse it. The initial poem “My body wants to be Spanish” is a drive by and being comfortable in one’s own body and finding your element. Its playful nature and humoristic approach is instant. Mature women can be playful girls and this is what this collection is about. Permission to be you. Permission to have fun.  

Another favourite is “Hidden” as a poet’s process compressed together with the thoughts that may circle in ones mind as to why we write or don’t and what we think and don’t. A philosophical question poets ponder about.

“Palazzo Palaver” a divorce poem, channelling a woman’s power into creativity rather than hate where kitsch replacements express freedom, individuality and standing your ground. 

Bossert’s shorter poems are my favourites in this collection like “Hidden” and “Stoned Ballerina” because they open doors to stories that are not just on her page, but in the frame of your own mind.

Bossert has captured the essence, the spontaneity and finding back to being comfortable in one’s own skin mixed with humour and with like “Froggies in Love” and sensual like “Sepia Secrets”

“All the way” is my favourite. The letting go and liberation when you find back to the true you, your dreams get another chance. While some poems are playful, this collection is a journey where each poem is a layer removed or added to find the person who is there waiting to be found, waiting to be.

 

Writer Pilgrim by So Elite

ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN is now available on Amazon, and comes with its very own, perfectly curated playlist on Spotify. This book is the perfect gift for Mother's Day (or any other day!) as the cover and illustrations were designed by my daughter, Olivia Bossert, who is a fashion photographer and mixed-media artist.

SONG TITLE POEM CHALLENGE! B is for…GARY BARLOW (of course it is!)

I missed the letter A yesterday, so I may come back to it later…

Here we go!

*****

So Help me Girl,

Are you Ready now ?

Why Can’t I Wake Up With You?

Love Won’t Wait!

Never Forget,

Babe,

The Flood.

Before We Get Too Old,

Hold Up A Light,

Pray,

Stronger,

Arms Around Me,

This is the Time,

Lay Down for Love.

My brand new poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN, is now available on all the Amazons, and comes with its very own, perfectly curated playlist on Spotify. This book is the perfect gift for Mother's Day (or any other day!) as the cover and illustrations were designed by my daughter, Olivia Bossert, a fashion photographer and mixed-media artist.